Arrowheads are not as far underneath the earth
As dinosaurs, but I am having a harder time believing on
My knees than I did before—
The virgins are still in my house—like the fables of
Snow White
And Red Riding Hood—
But they are not my wife—
And the big bad wolf is huffing—huffing
At my door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem